I'm Not Disabled, I Speak English!
by Lack of Tact
Summary: Who knew one person's injury would lead to two lives changing? Enter Weyland Lemming: a narcissistic, pessimistic, American who relies on Hisao's translating to get him by. When fate strikes Hisao in a horrible manner, it not only drags the Arrhythmic boy, but Weyland down the rabbit hole as well. (Weyland x ?) (Hisao x ?) Rated T - M
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**(Edited _heavily_ in preparation for the next chapter, A/N below)**

 **Prologue: On a Snowy, Winter Day...**

 **Act 1: Damage**

* * *

"Why in the fuck am I out here with you. It's cold." _Seriously, the human body was not meant to be out in the Goddamn snow for more than two minutes. To get from the house to the car, not waiting outside like morons. _I quiver in place, glaring holes in the back of my brunette friend's head. His name is Hisao Nakai, and he's an idiot. Sort of, maybe... okay, not really. I am, for a particular reason though. Bringing a hand up to rub away the forming frostbite on my left cheek, I grumble. Even in my head, I can't really talk bad about the bastard.

He only laughs at my shivering tone, hiding snugly beneath his thick, hooded jacket like the master race he is. _It's not my fault I left mine at school, tch._ It really wasn't, _this_ asshole pulled me from class all 'cause he plum-got a secret admirer on his hands. "Hehe, stay positive, my friend. I am sure we will not have to wait much longer. The note said 4, it is only twenty-five minutes until." _Twen... twenty-five until then?! Are you fucking kidding me?!_ I feel the urge to smack him, but I suppress it. Might mess with his translating, not that it's really that bad, and I won't survive any amount of time by myself.

But fuck it, if I'm waiting, I'm going to get myself a coffee, black and scalding hot. What was it again? Kōhī? Yeah, I'm sure that's all I need to say. Bringing my arms down and crossing them over my chest, I rub harshly at my flannel-clad biceps. Next time someone plants a note in his binder, steal it. I don't want to deal with this shit anymore. "Hisao, screw this man. You can freeze your ass off all you want, I'm getting something warm to sip on." He turns his head, his brown eyes looking into my own, and smiles attentively. He nods.

"Very well, Weyland. I will meet you there, alright? Are you heading to Inryō again?" Ah, yeah. Duh, it's the only place I'm relatively familiar with other than Mugen Academy and Hisao's and, temporarily, my home. I don't get out much, so what? I like to stick inside, near a warm... _cozy... fireplace._ My head snaps back, nodding to Hisao. Shit, I almost spaced out there, thinking of where I'd much rather be at this point.

"Er, yeah. 'Beverage!' Right? Your country and its literal translations, Hisao." I roll my eyes with a lighthearted chuckle as he nods. "Yep, that can do. So, what... I'll see you in thirty plus?" I have to ask, otherwise, I'm gonna be waiting without knowing if he's done flirting or not. And I'd much rather be home than have someone come to my table constantly, having me tell them off every time. That'd be a hassle.

"It's a plan." Before I begin walking, his gloved hand pats me on a shoulder as he passes me a sincere grin. I nod at him and trudge through the snow, shivering all the while. Fuck snow. Fuck the cold weather.

Fuck winter in general.

 **. . . . .**

A light breeze flows over me, coursing through the naked branches above, their light rattling easing my mind. As I watch my American friend leave, I sigh and shake my head. It was such a strange day, that one. When he'd arrived, I thought he was joking when he couldn't understand my family or me. When we were told we'd be taking a student from abroad, I'd assumed they'd at least understand the basics of our language. But Weyland Lemming, he was different. I am glad to now call him "friend," in both tongues. His and mine.

But now, this was not the time to be ruminating about the odd boy. I had... an admirer. It was both thrilling _and_ frightening to think of. Could it be Iwanako had finally returned my feelings? Or maybe that strange girl, Inari, I believe her name is... hm, it was entertaining to think of. I only wonder who it could be from. Raising my hands, I press them together over my mouth; I breathe outward, allowing the warmth of my breath to thaw my frozen lips, if only for a moment. Unlike Weyland, I would not let this winter be the death of me.

I chuckle, finishing my warmth exercises and cross my arms over my chest as he had done, entrapping the heat already within my jacket. _Only a little longer, now._ I wait with bated breath, my excitement becoming a little too much to bear. Breathing inwardly, deeply, I lower a hand down to my jacket's front pocket and pull a shriveled piece of paper from within. It was torn, almost hastily, from a notebook. Thumbing it unfolded, I stare with a ghost of a smile upon my lips; this confession... _As far as most clichés go, it still shows more initiative than I'd ever brought forth._ My lips twitch upward in wonder, the snow falling and caking the ground in its pasty white wholeness.

I feel a sudden tapping on my shoulder from behind me, has Weyland returned already? Turning around, I jump in surprise as a familiar figure, clad in a light, almost too thin, jacket. "H-Hisao?" An unsure voice fills the air with its radiance, it was barely audible.

"Iwanako?" As soon as my eyes lay bare on the new arrival, the tip of my nose a blaring red _definitely from the snow,_ I figure I wasn't wrong. The dark blue-haired girl, my long-time crush, stands directly in front of me, inches away. _She must be trying to steal my own warmth._ I jest, mentally, as I think it best for me to keep that in my own head. "T-the note I received... it was-it was yours?" My heart thuds silently, but powerfully in my chest and my cheeks begin to heat up. Maybe she does return my feelings.

Her own cheeks redden, I can't help myself and stare, ensnaring myself in her wondrous eyes. Her cheekbones rise up, giving me a half smile, as she almost dumbly nods. "A-ah... yes, I had ask-asked a friend to give you that note during lunch break... I-I am so glad you got it." Her smile lowers into an almost timid husk, joy etching across her face. Something about her roots me to the ground as I stare joyously back.

I _really_ can't help it, not with her, and I smile brightly. My face is most likely red, but I don't suppose it's from the cold anymore. My heart beats rapidly as I open my mouth to speak. "So, um... he-here we are then. Just the, ah, just the two of us. Out in the cold..." I want to bite my tongue, is this _seriously_ how I flirt? I'm terrible! Iwanako's probably going to hate me after this... The wind stirs, the falling snow seems to thicken, it's almost as if the Earth itself agrees with me. I watch silently, interest piqued in her nervous fidgets under the constant gusts of freezing winds.

As time finally passes, she breathes harshly, outward and through her nose once in a loud huff. Her eyes fill with something, determination or credence, something palpable. She mutters a quick reassurance to herself before nodding at me. She attempts to mimic aloofness and starts to lazily twirl the ends of her lengthy hair, an unsure look hiding behind her eyes. My heart hammers repeatedly in my chest. _Maybe I'm more nervous than her?_ I try to chuckle, but all that comes out is a strained cough. _What the,_ "you-you see, Hisao..." she begins to speak, though her voice seems low, seemingly muted, as if she was turning down the volume to her own vocal cords. Or was it me? My chest continues to thump internally.

"... I was... I was wondering..." her lips are moving, her eyes are staring intently into mine, but I don't respond. I _can't_ respond. My look feigns interest, but that's only because I can't move. _Wh-what is going on?_ I want to say something, to ask for help, for her to call for emergency services, but I can't! I can't do anything! She idly presses her fingers together in a bout of coyness. I want to shout.

"... i-if you would go out with me?" My frantic, beating heart pounds away in my chest, I'm stuck staring at her with a pained expression. It's getting harder, so much harder to breathe. As much as I believe the face I'm making looks like the face of rejection, I _want_ her to get someone for help. Ironic, yes, as I want to say yes and be with her; really, I want to say _anything_ at this point, but my throat feels as if it's tearing itself apart. Everything does, actually.

Seconds pass by, this horribly awkward silence growing thick, and she begins to look hurt. I want to say something, something to let her know I'm interested, but also to let her know that I am in so much pain, but it's too much. "H-Hisao?" Her voice trembles harshly, a wetness begins to form behind her eyes; as much as I'm hurt as well, I _need_ help. Something is obviously wrong.

Tentatively, I force a hand to move along the length of my throat, and this takes all of my willpower. For a second, I feel as if I gain some control over my body once more, but that glimmer of hope diminishes as quickly as it came. Searing, red-hot pain courses through my body, up and down and through my arms. She finally notices something else was at play. She quickly moves forward and pulls me into her clutches, her hands strongly gripping my forearms. This only elevates whatever pain I'm feeling. _Is... is this how I die?_ I feel a bile forming in the back of my throat and do everything in my willpower to hold it back. "Hisao?!" Away was any shyness or calmness about her, only concern laces her voice and I'm unable to respond in any way besides a painful growl.

My body spasms uncontrollably and pushes her away, what very well could be my last breaths escape me as I fall on to my knees. The beating, the ever constant, jackhammering of my heart makes me question the impermanence of my life. _I very well could be dying right now, can't I?_ As calm as my thoughts seem, I panic mentally.

Suddenly silence and I fall back, into the snow, looking up at the thick clouds producing the frozen particles. Iwanako's eyes enter my fading vision, a scream leaves her mouth, but I can't hear it. Tears pour down the bluenette's face; why do I have to suffer watching her watch me die? "Hisao?!" I can read my name from her lips, a twitch of my own upwards send another jolt of pain through my body. She lowers herself to my grounded level, again holding my arms in her own, to try and keep me conscious, maybe.

I can't feel it anymore. The physical contact alone is numbed through the blinding pain brought forth from whatever I was suffering from. Nothing, in fact, disturbs me more than that. A darkness begins to creep around the corners of my eyes, soon enveloping the world around me. The last thing I see before blackness clouds the entirety of my vision... is Iwanako's panicked expression. One final thought enters my head as my heart stops its seemingly relentless thundering.

 _A-am I dying?_ A scream finally enters my ears, before...

Nothing.

 **. . . . .**

There's always something different about winter; could be that snow caked the ground wherever you go or maybe its purity... nope, it's definitely the fucking cold. How can anyone stand it, let alone _play_ in it? Throwing snowballs seems like a chore, and the fact my hands go purple every time I try and throw a few doesn't make me any happier than I already am. Which is almost never, I'm almost never happy. Why would I be happy when I can be _warm._ The inside of Inryō is just what I need, who needs happiness when I have warmth? The place is heated, almost like one of those plug-in blankets, and I'm entirely content with just staying here. Kind of. Hisao hasn't made it back yet and it's been, what, forty minutes now? I know we agreed on thirty plus, but I don't like waiting. _What can I say? I'm an impatient guy._

Here I am, sitting alone in this booth with a mug of black nectar in my hands, waiting for Hisao to arrive with this admirer of his. "Maybe it's a guy, that'd be fucking hilarious. Could be a seriously cute girl, too... hm," I say to no-one in particular. Not that anyone could understand me, anyhow. A couple passes me by, my eyes shift from their brief movement to the flatness of the table before me and I sigh. Okay, maybe I'm a little jealous that I'm here alone and Hisao's probably getting with someone, but so what... it doesn't matter that much, right? _Right?_ I mean, it's my fault for never really trying anything, but still. I'd like _some_ company, I suppose.

I lower an elbow to the table and rest my head in my left hand as I think to myself. "I should've taken that stupid language course before this stupid transfer." Well, if I did that, then maybe Hisao and I wouldn't be as close? Would I just be another annoying transfer student in his eyes? Why the fuck do I care? I sigh and purse my lips. _Because he's really my only friend, here. That's why._ But maybe I wouldn't be as much of a burden on him if I was able to understand and speak the language. Maybe. I don't know, this is confusing to think on. I just wanted some coffee, Goddammit.

Lowering my hand, I tilt my head to glance out through the window but stop suddenly. My brow raises and my mouth opens slightly. _Isn't that the girl that Hisao likes?_ Indeed, just beyond the pane of the small coffee shop, the blue-haired girl that my tardy friend likes, seems to be looking around frantically. _Is... is she in trouble?_ My mind idles for a few seconds on the idea, but I shrug it off. Tch, it's not _my_ problem...

Goddammit, it _is_ my problem. Hisao likes her, therefore, by extension, I'm obligated to try and care. The 'friend of friend's friends', type of situation I always seem to put myself in. It's a bitch. Pulling myself from the booth I sat at, I turn my head towards the sole man behind the counter and give a two-fingered salute. He nods at me with a smile as I make my way to the entrance. A brief notion reoccurs in my head. _I really should've taken that stupid language course._

Now, out of the miniature coffee shop, everything that's ever been cold, or has a remotely low temperature, crashes into me like a freight train. And instantly, I hate everything again.

 _Jesus Christ, it's cold._ The coffee shop's original warmth drains from my flannel-clad torso and I feel a temptation to just turn around and go back inside. Sadly, I care more about others than I do my own well being. Even if I hardly know that 'other'. I cup my freezing hands to my mouth, preparing to shout, before I stare blankly, somewhat awkwardly at her. My mouth dries as something registers with me.

 _The Hell's her name?!_ I raise a hand even higher and run the palm of it down the entirety of my face. A loud sigh escaping me. "Ah... it was, um... _shit,_ Iwa? Ika? Ikanawa? Whatever..." I mumble to myself, I'm just going with it, too much effort. "Ikanawa!" Her head turns in my direction, her eyes widen I think. The snow kind of impairs my vision. Lowering my hands, now balled into fists to retain what little warmth they have left, I watch as she moves over to me, in almost a frenzied hurry. Something's definitely up. Did Hisao reject her or something? Or was it even her who gave that note? No time to be asking these senseless questions.

It didn't take long for her to reach me, her tufts of breath easily visible in this cold ass temperature. Her body shifting in a way to show she's trying to catch her breath. She jolts upright and stares at me with a panicked gaze. Suddenly, a new problem arises, one I should've seen coming.

"(...)!" I don't understand a lick of what she's saying. Her voice reaches my ears, I can tell she's in a rush, and I look around frantically myself, trying to decipher her need for help. An idea crosses my mind, one that _may_ or _may not_ work. I motion with my hands in a calming manner to try and soothe her rushed mannerisms. "(... Hisao...)!" She doesn't, but I did understand my friend's name. Is _he_ in trouble?

I watch as she tries to animate a scene with her body and hands, but I don't understand anything! The only thing I could really get from her is something about Hisao, and that's not even saying much, really. "Ikanawa, calm down." I try and say, despite knowing about the language barrier between us. She must've understood that, at least, as she takes a deep breath.

"(... Iwanako...)..." Did she... did she really just try and correct me on her name?! Isn't whatever she's panicking about more important?! I shake my head and give a grunt of annoyance. Slowly, I point between her and me to animate my own thoughts, then point off in the direction I'm assuming she ran from. Hopefully, she'll understand I want her to take me to Hisao. Whatever it is, I just hope he's okay.

Luckily for me, she seems to understand what I was trying, and likely failing, to convey to her. She pulls on the sleeve to my flannel, her hand brushing mine sending an awkward vibe for a brief second, as she drags me off to where Hisao is, hopefully. Not even five minutes pass and we reach the clearing I'd originally left for a cup of joe, but this time, there's a new addition to the whole scene. A slumped form, lying on its back in the frozen plain, stares blankly off into the skies above.

I slowly piece together the scene, and what I see... isn't anything good. _Iwanako comes looking for help... mentioned something about Hisao... that's probably a corpse... two plus two equals..._ "Oh, sonovabitch!" I break from the girl's grip on my sleeve and run to my downed translator — slash friend slash person that _shouldn't_ be dying or dead right now. "Hisao! _Shit!"_ I shout out, sliding the remaining distance on my knees to the boy. I feel a strain in my kneecaps, but it barely phases me.

Did she turn him over or did he fall like this? Regardless of the answer, he seemed to be breathing, but it was labored. Looking back to Iwanako, I pull my phone out and show it to her. I never really learned any numbers here, yet, so it's up to her to dial for emergency services. If Hisao wasn't dying in front of me, right now, I'm sure this would be a lot easier.

She gets the gist of what I was trying to say and pulls out her own device. I'm sure she'll feel stupid later, now knowing she could've dialed for help at any time instead of running to me for it, but I'm not going to ponder too hard on that. Turning back to my downed friend, I clench my teeth together in thought. _How did the Hell this happen? Did he just keel over?!_ I look back to Iwanako, the girl putting her phone away. Knowing I'm not going to understand anything that comes from her mouth, she opts to pull up three fingers.

Three minutes, I'm assuming.

Those minutes pass by slower than anything I've ever witnessed. The freezing weather was putting a toll on my shoulders and my knees really hurt. Maybe I should've just sat next to him instead of blindly jump onto my kneecaps. Like an idiot. Anyway, point is, it's cold and that's not helping the situation. Eventually, the not too familiar sound of blaring alarms close in. The medical response team came by and it was the girl who did the talking as, obviously, there was sort of a language wall between everyone and me.

It was watching them place Hisao on the stretcher that made me understand the finality of it all. _If... if he dies, oh my God, I'm screwed._ Wow, that was a selfish thought. Erm... _I wonder what mom's going to think when I call and tell her my translator died... ah... best not to think that way. Hisao wouldn't want me to... Come on man, make it easy on me here!_

"God, I am the _worst_ wingman."

* * *

 **I hate all of you... _joking,_ lmao. Anyway, I _know_ this fic's been dead for a long time, a year's length now I believe, but other interests came and went. I got sidetracked working on a plethora of other projects and such, so much so, that I entirely forgot about this piece. Until one day, like, today actually, I got an email. An email that was a review notification for _this_ story. Granted, it was a guest review, and I typically hate guest reviews 'cause I can't respond to them _directly,_ but something about this one spoke to me.**

 **Literally, as it's a review.**

 **Anyway, I got to thinking... maybe I should revive this fic. But, in order to do so, I had to edit the SHIT outta the first chapter. I didn't like it all that well and now, you have this. It reminds me of something I've been doing with another fic, and I like that. If you're interested, _totally not self-promoting here,_ check out "Doki Doki-ish," a "Doki Doki Literature Club" fanfiction. It's on my profile here, and it's got a lot of support so far, for being a VN like this one. If you like Weyland Lemming, the Main Character of "I'm Not Disabled, I Speak English!," then you'll love him in "Doki Doki-ish" as well! That's right, folks, it's the same character! Pessimism!**

 **Obviously, I put more time into that, but now I plan on spending time on this as well. So, congrats you guys, you've officially helped revive this thing. Weird, right? Feels good, if I'm being honest.**

 **I just need to replay the fucking game to get a gist of the characters and their personalities again, Goddammit.**

 **Whatever, lastly, as this was in the very same review that got me to thinking...**

 **This _isn't_ a self-insert. It's an OC that actually resembles an old friend of mine, one I sadly don't communicate with anymore... Bah, getting emotional for a second there, lmao. Anyway, I hope you guys appreciate the effort I'm once again going to put into this fanfic.**

 **As usual, you're all the best and I hope you guys enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2: Prologue Continued

**Prologue (Cont.): Violent Mannerisms**

 **Act 1: Damage**

* * *

"If you don't get off your fucking ass, I'm gonna _kick_ your fucking ass, got it?! We can't miss our taxi, Hisao!"

It's been four months since... ah, well since Hisao was first hospitalized. Since he'd discovered he has a disease; Arrhythmia I think it's called, but I'm not too sure. All I know is it messes with his heart, badly. It can be fatal, but to be honest, I don't want to think about that. He's a friend, pretty much my only one here, but I'd rather not lose him to something ridiculous... as serious as his disease is and all.

"It's been a week, we _had a week_ to fully transfer schools!"

Add an additional week, and it's been that long since we've discovered we have to transfer out of Mugen. I had the choice not to, but who was anyone kidding. I'm stuck with this bastard, thick and thin and whatnot. We're friends, that's what friends do. They transfer along with their foreign amigo — in this case, me — to an entirely different school. The place we'll now be attending is something Academy, Yamkui? Yamcha... er... Yamaku? Yamaku Academy, I think. It's a place specially designed for people like Hisao... and, ah... me too, now? Disabled folks, is the gist of it — English isn't a fucking disability, I swear. A chance to go to a school without feeling ostracized must be nice.

"I'm barging in and I don't give a damn if you're in your birthday suit if you don't answer me!"

Needless to say, I don't really _want_ to go, myself. I'm just trying to get my newly depressing friend out of his own head. As unhealthy as it is, he really shouldn't be thinking about that Iwanako chick. The girl stopped visiting him at the hospital six weeks in. As sad as that is, she showed more initiative than the others that came and went... _she was really cute, too_ _— Dammit, that's Hisao's friend. Stop thinking that way!_ I shake my head. Point is, once she stopped coming by, things for Hisao just started seeming black and white. In the end, it was just Hisao's parents and me — it was... just sad.

"You have 'till three, then I'm knocking this door down!"

He probably thinks, right now at least, that I only stuck with him because of my lack of Japanese in my vocabulary. I mean, he's not wrong entirely, but I also would've done it even _if_ I knew the language. We're friends, as I've mentioned, and we stick together. If only this bastard _would just listen up and open the fucking door already!_

"One-!"

"Hm?" I snort in surprise as Hisao's voice comes up from behind me; the boy has a toothbrush jutting from his mouth as he stares at me curiously, a rising brow sitting just atop his eye. I look between both the door and him, my mouth lowering with no words leaving it... _was I-was I screaming at an empty room?_ My face flushes and I begin to glare at my tall companion.

"Don't say anything, grab your shit, your parents are already there. Taxi's here in five." I emit a gravelly sigh, bringing up a hand to rub my temple. I was yelling the entire fucking time and he was _brushing his teeth?_ Christ, I need a coffee right now. It's too early for this shit.

The brunette gives me a curt nod and I fight back a sigh.

 **. . . . .**

I wasn't expecting much; a school for disabled children and teenagers, one wouldn't really think twice about it. Coming up to it now, from the back of the taxicab Hisao's mother had dialed for us, I'm left practically breathless. The entire building itself is fenced off by a maroon brick wall; tree branches loom over it, their shadows leaving rays of daylight to fall through the leaves. It was serene, the sight was. The building, though, was another story entirely. No more did the thought of a small, cheap school occur to me; instead, bare for all to see, is Yamaku.

A large building, much larger than I'd anticipated, with two separate, smaller structures on either side — the dormitories, where Hisao's parents are likely putting the rest of our stuff. The building sported hues of white and reds, at the very top was a clock large enough for all to see. _This is Yamaku? It looks more like a mansion..._ Hisao doesn't say anything next to me, likely in his own thoughts about the new school. I don't mind, however. I'm doing the same just looking at it.

The vehicle comes to a stop, the driver turns his head back and looks at both Hisao and me. "(...Yamaku...)" I purse my lips and look to Hisao as well, the boy was already getting out his wallet. He handed over whatever bills needed for the payment and we leave the vehicle, our bags at our sides — mine on my back, but that's not too noteworthy to point out... which I already did, I already did point it out... _shit._

The gate, enclosing the entire campus, sits before us. The fading sound of an engine proves the taxi had left us. It was just us two, now. Hisao and I. "Fuck." _I swear, if this place has uniforms like Mugen, I'm gonna freak._ "Hisao, you still have that brochure?" He doesn't turn his head away from the gate and blows me off, a low sigh escaping him as he presses a hand to his chest. Beneath the fabric that he was clad in, I knew he was thinking about the scar from the surgery they'd done on him. _I wonder what it was like... to be clinically dead for those moments._ I look away from the boy and move forward. Pushing the large, metallic gate open, my breath catches in my throat.

As with the sidewalk, the pathway leading to the front doors of Yamaku is speckled with shadows cast from the trees; the grass gave off a freshly cut smell; the flowers dancing with the wind within small cobblestone enclosures. Serenity. I begin trekking, my newly silent friend following my lead. "So, this is Yamaku Academy?" I question aloud, mainly to myself but to Hisao as well. He bobs his head along the short trail, his eyes dull as he doesn't even bother to take in our surroundings. If things continue like this, I may have to hit him once just to bring him back to the real world. Why would anyone want to miss this scenery?

We reach the doors in a continued silence. I can hear Hisao grinding his teeth together in a tantalizing realization. We're stuck here, that gate back there was our one chance of living relatively normal lives, and we went through it. Granted, I don't think I care what choice he'd make either way. I'm sticking with him regardless of the outcome. The transfer plan I'm on only permits my being with the Nakai family for another year, so I may as well make the most of it by spending time with my best friend.

And get him to order stuff for me at restaurants. And translate for me. And... _bah, at this point everyone I've met should know the gist of our situation._

We both look at each other for a silent minute before our eyes divert to the doors. This is it, this is our new lives. We open them together and press forward, into the unknown. The migraine-inducing, life debating, unknown.

 _I should've made that cup of coffee before this._

* * *

 **Sorry for the length, given the amount of time I've had to work on this, but I needed to write down something other than 'four months at the hospital' and such. Think of this as a, ah, a filler chapter I suppose, to get me past the most difficult case of writer's block I've had. Now, that I got through this rough patch, I can finally start penning the actual story and such.**

 **Anyway, to those who are just now reading this, thanks and I hope you like it from here-out. To those who stayed despite the year wait, thank you just as much and more. Make sure to go back and reread chapter 1, huge update compared to the last time you probably read it. I'm finally picking this thing up, again. Hell yeah!**

 **Next chapter's going to be twice as long, and it's already in the works. I've got other shit to write, but as this is number 3 on my priorities list, don't expect to wait any longer than two weeks!... and not another fuckin' year xDDD**

 **As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 1: Some Form of Understanding**

 **Act 1: Damage**

* * *

I don't know what I could've expected upon entering the school. A man with greying black hair, a brown overcoat, and dainty little eyes was definitely something I could've prepared for. I didn't, but still, I could've. As with his hair, his eyes were a dark, cool grey and they were piercing into my own. I nudge Hisao in the ribs with my elbow as I simply give him a weak wave and a grin. "Sup."

The adult's eyes turn to my partner, who was fidgeting nervously in place as we both stare up at the lanky man. I get the feeling he was judging us, but what the Hell do I know? "(...Niki?)" leaves the stranger's throat and Hisao shakes his head in return. _Did_ _this guy just call Hisao, Niki?_ I stifle a chuckle and he gestures at himself, continuing to speak. "(... Mutou...)" I wait silently between the two, awkwardly as I try and decipher as much as I can from the differing language. Thankfully, Hisao translates _somewhat_ to me.

"His name is Mutou, he will be my homeroom teacher and my Science teacher." Ah, that's cool, I — _what._ "(... Nakai... Weyland...)" Hisao corrects as he responds to his new teacher; I bite the inside of my cheek. _Did he say 'my' as in only his? We're not gonna be in the same classes?!_ I can feel the blood draining from my face as I stare at both Mutou and Hisou, a single _'heh'_ leaves my lips as I gulp. _Oh, I'm fucked._ I poke my friend on the shoulder to pull him from the conversation for a second.

"Hey, uh, bud. It's only the science class, right? We're going to be in _some_ of the same classes... right?" My eyes plead with him, I can feel a cold sweat form on my back. He turns back to aging teacher without an answer. _Shit._ Both of the taller members of the party exchange a shake of hands and I feel oddly left out, but what can I do? If I'm not going to be in similar classes with Hisao, that should be fine right?

"(... Weyland...)" If I can't even understand half of what this Mutou character said, I'm assuming the answer to that is a no. Crap, we had a week — I got on Hisao's ass about it — and _I'm_ the one who didn't look at the planned schedule. I _knew_ I was forgetting something, Goddammit.

Hisao looks to the left at me with pursed lips and an uninterested gaze. "Your class schedule is in your bag, I have to be going now. Evidently, Mister Mutou wishes to introduce me to his class." _Do you have to speak in monotone now? Seriously? Ugh._ I wave him off without a response as the two part ways from me.

I am now standing, at the inside of the school's entrance, _alone._ Great. I give a sigh as the two turn around a corner and disappear from view. _"Cool._ No, seriously. _Leave_ the guy who doesn't understand shit all by himself. _Totally_ fine." I force back a groan after my bout of sarcasm. What the Hell do I do now? I rock on the balls of my feet as I think to myself... _and Hisao said I have my schedule in my bag,_ I almost entirely forgot about that already. Rolling my eyes as I heft the light pack off of my shoulder to unzip it, I... ah... I unzip it and I pull out a single sheet of paper. My class listing.

I _really_ hope I have a few classes with Hisao, otherwise, I'm failing high school. Speaking only English; not a disability, but apparently a bitch... and a hindrance. Awesome. My eyes go half-lid looking at the paper's contents. "Fucking kidding me... Psychology?" _Ugh, Hisao and I had this same class in Mugen..._ I really hope I don't meet someone similar to that pink-haired chick. _What was her name? Natsomething? Bah, whatever._ With a shake of my head, I look at the numbering. _2-5? Floor 2, room 5._ I am _so_ going to get lost in this school.

I groan once more and begin following the path both Hisao and Mutou took. With any luck, maybe my bastard friend'll be just down the hall, but, also _knowing_ my luck, that's not going to happen. I make my way up the staircase in an uneasy silence. Why in the Hell did they pull my translator from me? Mugen had Hisao and I share every class together — I was thankful for it — but Yamaku? Seriously, do you have to be a dick about it? _Especially_ in a class I was doomed to fail anyway?

 _Sonovabitch._

 **. . . . .**

Standing directly outside of the room, the door closed to obviously just cause more annoyance for me, I debate even entering. Obviously, whoever my teacher is, they have to know I'm coming. Do they know I only speak English is one of the questions I want to be answered. And even if they do know... how fucked am I on the language barrier, here? _Very_ is my guess. Ah, well, I'll never know 'till I open this Godforsaken door so... I grab the handle, gulp, and push the door open.

Much to my chagrin, the thing creaks loudly. Whoever's inside _definitely, obviously_ hears it. I fight back a coming headache and walk inside, multiple eyes stare as I enter. _Aw fuck._ I sigh and give a pathetic wave as I smile at everybody; whispers are thrown back and forth as my eyes land on the instructor. A young woman with long, curly brown hair that goes down the length of her back looks at me. She's likely in her twenties _if_ my assumption is right. A few awkward seconds of silence pass as we continue to stare at each other before she smiles brightly. Her attention briefly turns to the class as she holds a hand out, pointing at me. "(... Weyland!)" Oh, Goddammit.

She pushes herself from the small desk she sat at and approaches me with a nod. "You speak English, no?" I blink at the understood dialect that hits my ears and nod without words. She chuckles, likely at my dumbstruck expression before she continues speaking. "Sadly, I am one of few teachers at Yamaku to understand and speak the language. I have recently learned, but I will still do my best to teach you, Weyland."

"A-ah, yeah." What more can I say? _Ah, well, at least my first period I might not fail now._ Good to know, I guess.

"Would you like to introduce yourse- _aha..._ sorry." She giggles at her own comment before shaking her head. I look over her shoulder at several students, they were engaged in conversation and every now and then would glance at me. Why do I feel like I'm being made fun of? They aren't laughing or giggling, but I still feel it. I blink and look back at the teacher.

"-aki." _Shit._

"One more time?"

"Hehe, sorry. I noticed you were distracted, but I could not help myself." She giggles behind a hand and nods, continuing, "I am Hiroko Sasaki, and I am pleased to be your Psychology and homeroom teacher." Her eyes light up in mirth before turning her body fully to face the rest of the classroom. Her head turns to me with a smile. "Just introduce yourself and I will translate for you, yes?" I raise a hand and scratch at the back of my head with a shrug.

"A-ah... sup?"

She stares at me blankly before giggling again. _Man, she's a happy person, isn't she?_ "I don't believe 'sup' translates very well, try being more direct?" I sigh and give a nod, well, there goes my typical introduction. I turn my own body to face the class, ignoring my heated cheeks as the students stare at me. _I hate being the center of attention._ I mumble to myself quietly.

"Hello, I'm Weyland Lemming." I give another lame excuse for a wave, several students chuckling at my actions. I feel like a fool right now.

"(... Weyland Lemming...)"

"I, ah, I speak English so... yeah, not so good at holding a conversation, obviously."

"(...)" Some more students perk up as I continue to rip on myself. As cool as it is that I'm making these people laugh at, or with, me, it sucks also.

"Lastly, ah... _bah._ Nevermind. Can I just, y'know, go grab a seat?" I point a thumb at several empty desks. Of course, they are neighboring filled seats, but I don't mind. I'd just rather sit down and have Sasaki continue with her — _whatever_ she was doing before I came in. She blinks at me behind her glasses before nodding with that ever-present smile of hers. I bite my lower lip as I make my way past her to my chosen desk. The one in the front row to the far left.

Of course — with my luck, however — it has a neighbor to its right. There's a red-haired girl with the sleeves of her blouse tied up; I'm assuming as this is a school for disabled students, that she has a, ah... lack of arms? I mean, the more I think about it, the more obvious it is. An almost distant look forms in her half-lidded eyes as she stares back at me, coming her way. I feel awkward as it is, _I can do without the staring thank you. I mean, I'm not staring. It's rude._

I take the seat next to her and sit in silence, my first school day officially beginning. Sasaki drones on, translating for me every time her attention lands on my form. Today, if the rest of my classes are remotely like this period, is going to be a _very_ long day. I doubt though, that I'll be so lucky as to have any other teachers available to translate for me.

I sigh and lean back in my seat, time ticking by. I can still feel the redhead's eyes boring into the side of my face, my own shift over to her and she doesn't bother looking away. "Yeah?" I question, even though I know she either won't understand or won't even respond.

"(...)" Figured.

"I'm going out on a limb here," _wow, I really didn't think that through, you insensitive bastard, "_and assume what you just said was something along the lines of ' _I don't know what you just said.'"_ She blinks but maintains that half-way interested, half-way bored appearance on her face.

She simply shakes her head and goes silent. "(... Rin...) For about two seconds. I raise a brow and look at her again. _Rin? S'that her name?_ I tilt my head slightly in confusion and her eyes stare into mine once more.

"(... Rin...)" Me thinks it's her name.

"Weyland." I go to hold a hand out but pause awkwardly. My arm being almost extended and almost not, I probably look stupid. She simply nods to me before her eyes go to the front of the room. Well, that wasn't awkward or anything. I pull my hand back and purse my lips.

A _very_ long day indeed, especially at this rate.

 **. . . . .**

It's not too much of a wait and eventually, we're on the last five minutes of class. Sasaki had given us 'free-time' as she put it, so I can meet and get to know some of the other students. I don't know _how_ or _why_ she thought that was such a great idea, but obviously, it didn't pan out very well. There's still the fact I don't understand anything besides names... _granted, I am enjoying this rather one-sided conversation with Rin._

"And yeah, that's how I ended up here. Thought it'd be alright to transfer schools with him, y'know. He's my translator, so, figured why not." I drum my fingers against the desk, my right leg bobbing up and down as I look at the redhead. "'Course, though, we apparently have separate classes, so _that's_ nice. Now I'm in here, Psychology — also my worst class, by the way — with you guys." I finish with a nonchalant wave of my hand and lean back in my chair, waiting for a response.

"(...)" Not much of a wait, but I nod my head in feigned understanding.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too. My luck is just... _shit."_ I shrug and let out a low breath of air, the 'conversation' coming to a pause. Rin just stares at me with her studious gaze.

"(...-)" The sudden chime of the morning bell ringing cuts her off, her attention drifts briefly to the clock hanging just over the classroom's door. Without any trouble, she gets up from her seat.

She nods to me once and leaves along with everyone else in the class, I give a short wave. "Nice talking to you, too," I mutter out to her, her head turns over her shoulder and the _smallest_ smile I've ever seen etches across her features. Neither one of us understood each other, but it was cool nonetheless. Definitely makes me feel less weird than I did before.

I grab my backpack and say my 'see you later's to Sasaki. The teacher dips her head warmly at me before going over the assignments her other students have turned in. I leave with a heavy sigh, heading into the hallway off to my next class. _Phys. Ed. here I co-_ someone bumping into me the moment I leave the room interrupts my thoughts... or rather, _me_ bumping into someone else did.

I chuckle awkwardly.

 _What was 'sorry' again?_

* * *

 **A whole year later since I posted the first chapter guys... so, happy fanfic-iversary?**

 **Whatever, anyway, it's going to take me a few to get back into the groove of things, so don't expect chapters any longer than 2/3k for this story. Whatever, though. I'm finally putting progress into this, that's all that matters, eh?**

 **And yes, I _know_ it's not _actually_ twice as long as the last chapter. I actually just ended up splitting this and the next one in half. Name 'cause "why bother, this is long enough for two." Bah, anyway. Next chapter'll be up within a week or two.**

 **As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**


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